About Last Night

The Sacrifice

The meeting with the partners of Malfoy Industries was going so well Draco could see those creepy, heinous old bastards practically orgasming in their chairs when he and Cristobal Rivera gave the estimated earning the company would make in the investment with Tierra Pura. Draco was so sure he had convinced the partners, he even pulled out the legal documents for them to sign so the presentation could conclude and a round of bourbon could be had after giving a speech promising success. That, of course, was before the main heinous bastard of the lot cleared his throat.

"You are a modern thinker, Draco," said Wulfric Macnair, the eldest son of one very imprisoned Walden Macnair. While daddy dearest was executing wild beasts for the Ministry as a very interesting hobby (as one could do when they were worth millions of galleons), Wulfric was in America, working for the Magical Congress. What exactly he did there, of course, was a mystery to all. He remained there even when the Dark Lord came back from hell to lead his servants to war. When Walden Macnair was caught after the Hogwarts battle, Wulfric returned to Britain to step up as the patriarch of the family. That job description included being a despicable, headache-inducing twat Lucius and Draco Malfoy had to constantly deal with. He was particularly less of an arsehole to Lucius, seeing as a history of early friendship now made them passive-aggressive acquaintances, but as for Draco—well, he was positively certain Wulfric wanted to destroy him.

Draco tightened his fingers on the thin stack of folders. "Well, unlike yourself, Macnair, I am young. Modern. And definitely more attractive," he added with a smirk, though his silver eyes burned black with hatred. A few partners chuckled, but Lucius narrowed his gaze at his son. "It's my job to think outside of the box."

"I have heard of outside-the-box thinkers making their fortunes with innovative ideas these days," continued Wulfric, grinning back as if the banter being exchanged was one with a friend. "Of course, if we look at the statistics of their success, the numbers are relatively small. These thinkers are rare, lucky—el señor Rivera one of them, naturally, or he would not be standing before us." Cristobal bowed his head in gratitude, but Draco saw him ball his hand and stuff it into his pocket. "However, the people sitting before you come from old money. We are businessmen who invest in traditions and family. We have maintained our fortunes because security permits it."

"Security?" Draco questioned with a laugh. "That's another word for comfort, is it not? Gentlemen, statistics also show that values of a stock can plummet if that company refuses to revolutionize. We live in a world that is fast changing, the consumers with it. If we do not provide quality and up-to-date products and services we will lose our standing as a multi-million galleon company. Of course," he added with bite, "we can follow tradition and see how far along that can take us. But if history is anything to go by, remaining selective and narrow-minded does not always work out for the best. If it did...well, it would be Wulfric's father that sat among us."

It was completely uncalled for to aim so low, even Draco was aware of that, but in the fight against Macnair nothing was off limits. It should be petty for a fifty-something year old man to go head to head with someone half his age, but this was just how things were. One had to have the upperhand. Tierra Pura was dear to Draco's heart, and Macnair knew that all too well. He would find any loophole, any weakness to hit and inject doubt so the partners would withdraw their consent of investment. Naturally, Draco had to protect this business venture by any means.

"Now we deliberate," Lucius Malfoy's voice rung firm and low throughout the meeting room. "Those who are in favor of investing in Rivera's potioneer company please vote now."

There were fifteen partners, including the Malfoys, and they were almost equally in divide on whom to follow. Some of them were businessmen who had a hold in Malfoy Industries simply to make money despite loathing the family. Then there were those who were old friends still latching on to a history of pureblood mania and superiority that kept them loyal. Still, in the end, like most things in the corporate world, it all came down to money. They would look past Draco leading the march so long as their vaults were generously filled.